


How Far

by caren



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 18:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caren/pseuds/caren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How far would you go to prove your love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Far

.

.

.

.

She knows this isn't something I want.

.

He knows this is something I've wanted for a long time.

I think it will be good for us. For him, especially. He has to see that I won't break.

He has to understand that we won't, either.

.

I take a deep breath and work the last button on my shirt before dropping it on the chair.

I really would give her anything.

.

I always knew he'd do anything for me. Even this. He'd even give me this.

I climb on the table, avoiding the window I know is there. I feel exposed; dirty. Even though I know I shouldn't.

My eyes are on the ceiling as I try to calm the beating of my heart and relax. Minutes pass, and when I hear the door, I freeze. A shiver works its way down my spine.

The air around me is cool, but I know it won't be that way for much longer.

.

When I walk into the room, she's already naked, perfect full tits and pretty pink pussy on display. For me, for... everyone. My eyes brush the window, but they don't linger. There are better things to look at right now.

I've been here before, but it's different now. Because now it's real. Now it's us inside, not just watching through a foggy window.

The room is mostly dark; deep reds and bright golds. Everything is purposefully arranged, all contrasting and pointing to one thing.

The table where she's spread out; arms wide and legs open. Waiting. She's barely visible in the low light, which I like. There are parts of her body I enjoy knowing no one else will ever see.

It doesn't matter to me, though. Light, dark... I have it all memorized. I know all her spots. The birthmark on her left hip or the scar on her arm from when we were twelve. There are so many places I can name just like those.

I also know every place that will make her scream. I know her body and how she wants me to use it.

My eyes flit back to the window and I smile because I know all these things, and all they can do is watch.

She's spent months convincing me, helping me decide, and I finally gave in.

Tonight I'm finally willing to admit that I want this, too.

.

I breathe heavily as I wait, wondering what he'll do. Where he'll start. His footsteps are soft brushes against the carpet as he moves closer.

.

Fuck, do I want it.

.

His hands are at my feet. Long fingers tease for seconds, tickling and then move to my legs; kneading, rubbing, squeezing. So close. Closer.

And then away...

It feels good, but it's torture. Delicious torture. I can't tell if he's doing it because it's what he thinks I want or if he's still afraid to push.

I want him to be rough and strong and sure. I want him to take. He knows.

I sigh as his long fingers scratch the insides of my thighs, just enough to leave my skin burning with the reminder that he's close.

That we're actually doing this.

And it's not enough.

Not enough. Not enough. Not enough.

"More," I tell him.

.

"Quiet," I say, stepping into the role I've accepted here tonight. "You wanted them to have a good show, didn't you? I'm giving them a show."

Already I'm so hard it's painful. I need a few minutes to breathe and relax and calm my shit down. I want her like I've always wanted her. In our bed, with her legs wrapped around me and the TV on in the background.

But it's not what she wants right now; and I know that.

And the thought of what she does want, what she's asked for, brings on a whole new set of feelings inside me. There's this ache growing that wants me to take. To claim. To prove to everyone watching that she's mine. It's always been there, but now I'm letting it out.

I'm ignoring the other side, the one that remembers constantly how small and delicate she is. That she's my wife, and I could hurt her.

She's asked me to forget soft, forget delicate. She wants me to take control. I just need to do it.

I need to give them a good show.

My eyes flit back to the window once more. There could be one person on the other side of that glass, there could even be a hundred; I can't see them.

Shit. There could be none.

Just the idea that someone could be watching us, though…that's what she wanted for me. That's what she thinks will work.

So many nights she's whispered all the dirty things she wanted me to do to her in front of them. And she's listened as I revealed the dirtiest, darkest parts of me. How I wanted so badly to lick her, suck her, fuck her. Spank her. For me to show every person who chooses to watch to whom she belongs.

Because it's me.

She fucking belongs to me.

And I want them all to know it. I want her to fucking know it.

.

My knees hit the table as his hands force my legs wide and hold them there.

Green eyes watch me as he hovers over my breasts. I expect him to taste but he doesn't. Lower, lower; I look down and catch him as he inhales.

His hands grow tighter, and there's a difference in the way he's holding me now. It's not what I'm used to. I expected slow; I expected my Edward to make an appearance at least for a little while. But I can see in his eyes that, right now, he isn't the man I married. There's no soft, slow approach like usual. There's no tentative build when he bends down and his lips wrap around my clit, as he sucks it against his tongue.

There's only ecstasy - quick, sharp - and my hips lift under him, searching for more.

.

My finger slides into her easily, and then I add another. And another. I can feel her, stretching around me.

Fuck.

She's not as fragile as I think. She can't be broken. What I'm doing, it's not wrong; it feels good for her. I remember all the times she told me so. I know she'll tell me if I go too far.

Her voice in my mind pushes me forward, and I hear her saying it over and over: It feels so fucking good.

Her words make my tongue move faster, my fingers deeper. She's wet and so god damn warm, and her taste...

I lick her, swirling around her clit, then lower, until she's writhing beneath me, taking my fingers out only long enough for my tongue to fill her.

She groans, and one foot kicks the leather below us as her hips move against my face. I pull back as her legs quiver and look up at her. Her cheeks are deep red, flushed. Tits bouncing with every heavy breath she pulls in and pushes back out.

I know that face, those movements. If we were home, her hands would be in my hair and she would have all the power. But we're not there; and she doesn't.

Wanting more of her in my mouth, I bend down and suck her clit between my lips before thrusting my fingers back inside her.

Giving her one last taste of how she wants it.

Her hips lift, and I keep my eyes on hers as I lick her long and slow. She whimpers and her toes curl.

I hum against her, and the sound in her throat turns to a moan. Though every part of her is moving, quivering, shaking, her eyes never leave mine.

"Do you think they know how good you taste?"

She doesn't answer me, just whimpers as my hand starts moving again, rough and fast. The sound of my fingers sliding in and out of her...it's raw and dirty and I don't know if I've ever heard anything hotter.

I lick her again, softer. Teasing. I can feel her squeezing me, feel her insides fluttering. She's so close already; too close.

The temptation is there to see her come. To watch pleasure take her.

Tonight, though, the decision is all mine; and I'm not ready to give her what she wants.

"Do you?" I ask again, curling my fingers once before pulling them out and lifting my hand to her mouth.

"No," she moans, and I take the opportunity to push my fingers into her open mouth.

Her tongue swirls around my fingers, sucking as her eyes close. "Tell them, then. Tell them how good your pussy tastes."

.

I moan around his hand as I taste myself on fingers that are all him.

"Sweet," I say, because it's the best description I can manage. It tastes sweet, but maybe that's just him underneath.

My brain is all mixed up. He had me so close to the edge, right there, and now he's stopped. And I'm angry.

The glare I give him brings a smile to his face, and I can only curl my fists in frustration. It's what I wanted - him in control. Him making all the choices and decisions and giving me permission to finish only when he's ready for it.

But my body... it's begging for release.

.

"Sweet?" I shake my head. That doesn't even begin to describe her. But it's okay. "I guess I'm the only man who will ever know just how good this pussy is."

I take my fingers from her mouth and push them back inside her as I say it. No more slow and teasing.

Her arms lift above her head, fingernails clawing at worn leather for some kind of purchase as I fuck her with my hand. Her head is all over, thrashing this way and that. And as she moans words I don't recognize, my name is suddenly there, too.

Over and over.

She's begging.

And I fucking love it.

It doesn't take long for me to bring her back to that moment when her body is writhing, and the sounds she makes are incoherent. Again, I push her forward. Push, fuck, tease.

And then I'm gone.

"Not yet," I tell her.

.

His hand disappears, and I feel cool air sweep across me as he steps back. I want to sit up, search for him. Hit him. Scream. Beg him to come back. Even though I know he won't.

I turn my head and find his gorgeous face. There is no sweet; his features are all serious business and so fucking sexy.

"Turn over, get on your hands and knees," he says; his voice all command and strength. Power he's had all this time but has chosen not to use until now.

I scramble up to my knees, the leather below me groaning as I shift and do as he asks.

My head hangs down as I suck in a deep breath, and then I lift my eyes back to his.

.

She looks up at me, brown eyes wide and lips full. I want to kiss her mouth, but I won't. Not yet.

"Good girl," I tell her, taking small steps around the table. Stalking. Watching. My hands move to the zipper on my jeans, and I'm sure to take it slow; certain she can hear every single inch as I reveal myself.

Her gorgeous ass is in the air, and I hope all the men on the other side of that window are even more jealous of me. Of what I have and they don't. What they'll never fucking have.

Her eyes move with me as I step around the room. They follow my hand as I reach down and stroke my cock.

Her tongue peeks out, sliding across her bottom lip, and I do the same. She wants it. I know she does.

And fuck, do I want her to have it.

My hand glides up my length, brushing across the head and then back down again. Rougher this time. It's nothing compared to how she feels around me, how her pussy grabs on and holds me inside her, but it's something.

It's a small relief to the ache she's created.

"Do you want it?"

"Yes," she hisses, her eyes still on my slow-moving hand.

"Where?"

"My mouth. I want your cock in my mouth."

I groan and step toward her, pressing my cock against her lips. I thrust, deep, and a moment of fear grips me when I feel her throat's reaction. She's gagging, but her eyes are bright and her look tells me to keep going. To push her.

Fuck... to push myself. She's not going to break.

I put my hands in her hair, fingers sliding until I'm gripping handfuls of it at the back of her head, pulling her mouth up and down my length. She's all hot and wet and her fingers are digging into the leather under her.

She keeps her eyes on mine as her hot mouth works me. Tongue and lips and fuck that feels good.

"Use your teeth," I demand, pushing my cock into her throat again. Her eyes close briefly, and she moans around me before her teeth graze my shaft. Softly, and then rougher. It hurts in the best fucking way.

.

My lips wrap tighter around him, and I stare up at his face. He's glistening with sweat, full lips pursed in pleasure, labored breaths pushing through with every thrust.

His eyes are hooded, fighting to stay open as he takes what he needs from me. What I want him to take.

I can't stop looking at him. And I know I'm not the only one.

I know there are women and men on the other side of that window who are watching him, too, and I can't help the moan that escapes with the thought.

.

When she moans around me, I lose myself. My thrusts in her mouth go from long and deep to short and erratic. I become all take, take, motherfucking take. My hands tighten in her hair and she whimpers, but she never stops watching me. Not once.

"Now everyone knows how fucking good your mouth feels, baby. I'm gonna come so fucking hard." I moan and my eyes close as she sucks me even harder, deeper, and then I'm coming in her mouth.

.

Edward steps back from the table, chest rising and falling as he fights to catch his breath. He covers his mouth with his hand and breathes harshly against it.

My body sags as I swallow the last of him and wait for his next command. His strong chest and abs are pulled tight, showing faint hints of the lean muscle he possesses, as we continue to watch each other in silent communication.

He walks again, stalking around me, looking. One finger trails down the middle of my back, and the sensation is so strong, my arms give out. I rest against the warm leather beneath me, inhaling the scent of sweat and sex that lingers.

I was the one who wanted this; to know what it felt like to be watched. I was desperate to have their eyes on me, to let complete strangers see him own my body the way he owned my heart. But I had no idea it would be like this; that it would be so strong. So powerful.

I had no idea it had the ability to change us.

And even though we're not even close to finished, I know it will.

We will both walk away from this with something we didn't know we needed.

.

It's amazing what one, single fingertip can do to her.

.

"Giving up on me already?" Edward says from behind me, and my head snaps up.

"No.". I can't see him, but I can suddenly feel his warm breath on my back.

He pushes against me as I struggle to rise on shaky limbs. "Stay down."

I let go and lower myself back to the table, squeezing my eyes closed as his hands settle on my ass. Calloused fingers work my skin, rubbing up and down.

His thumbs slide down between my thighs, dipping inside me before he moves back up again. I can feel how wet I am, and it's all for him. It's always for him.

.

I give her ass cheek one little tap, watching as it turns the softest shade of pink before the skin fades back to pale.

The way she lifts her hips, ass searching for more, tells me it wasn't hard enough.

I tap her again on the opposite cheek, and she moans. My hand stings as I do it again, and then again.

The pink on her ass stays, darkens with each smack. I never imagined it could be like this; that it could be so fucking good to give her what she asked for.

"Get back on your knees."

.

I do as he asks; as I'm told. My body is covered in goose bumps, my belly a mass of tingling anticipation.

.

"Wider. Spread your legs wider."

Happy with what's in front of me as she opens her legs even more, I touch her again. I push my middle finger inside her pussy, slowly rubbing her walls with the tip. She sighs, and her hips fill with tension.

"You want it, don't you?" I ask, my hand twisting.

"Yes," she says. "Please..."

"It's a good thing I want it too."

.

His free hand grips my hip, skin and curve trapped inside the cage of his strong fingers as he pulls me back to the edge of the table. He taps the inside of each thigh, indicating that he wants me even wider. Open.

"Lean forward and turn your head. I want them to see your face while I fuck what's mine."

.

Fuck. I take a deep breath and step closer, my hands holding her so tight. We need this. We've needed this for a long time. I need this now.

She's mine. She's always been mine. And she wanted everyone who's watching us to know it. She wanted me to know it, too. She wanted me to understand that no matter who watches or where we are, it's always just her and me.

My hand lands across her ass, and I stare down at the pink mark as I slide my cock through her wet slit. The smack echoes through the room and I smile to myself.

In my mind, I tell her I love her. In reality, though...

"Are you watching them, baby?"

One of my hands moves to grip my shaft as I line it up with her entrance. My other hand grabs her hair, pulling it as I step closer to the table. I have to remind myself again that this is what she wants.

I look up, and I can see her in the faint reflection of the window. Those bright eyes and flushed face. All those lucky fuckers on the other side of that window have the best seats in the house.

Well, no, I guess I do.

It's quiet, save for our labored breaths as I make her wait. Make her wonder. Am I going to be slow and gentle, or rough and deep? She moans and my hand tightens.

"Fuck, you want it, don't you?" I push myself closer to her, just the tip slides in and I hold her still. Keep her from impaling herself on me. No matter how fucking much I want to be buried balls deep inside her.

"Answer me," I say, when she stays quiet.

"Yes. Fuck, yes."

.

My words are what he needs; my reassurance. His cock goes from resting at my entrance to deep inside in one swift thrust. The shock is a welcome one. He's the only man that's ever felt me this way; the only man who ever will.

"Shit," he hisses, pulling out and slamming back into me. He releases my hair, and I sag forward once more. His hands grab me; holding hips and then higher, until his fingers are gripping my breasts and my back is pulled to his front.

His lips and teeth grace my neck as he works me up and down, and his warm breath on my skin scorches as he pants with every movement. My knees ache, my arms feel like jelly, and my head is throbbing with how much I want - no need - to come.

His strokes don't slow down, and I can feel myself tightening around him. I turn my head, search out his eyes over my shoulder and beg as my hand hovers between my legs. Please. I need him to let me fall.

I want to put my hand down there so badly, to bring myself to the edge. Make myself come.

Please.

.

"Do it," I tell her, angling my cock to hit that sweet spot I know she loves. I can see it in her face, feel it in the way she's so fucking tight around me. She's there, and she wants to come. And it's time. I want her to come, too. "Fucking touch yourself. Show them how good you look when you come."

She moans at my words, and I feel her fingers almost immediately as they touch not just her but me, too. My thrusts speed, and I'm lifting her body with every one as I strain on the tips of my toes to get deep, so fucking deep inside her.

Her movements are frantic and sloppy, and I can feel her fluttering, tighter, tighter… and I know the exact moment when she's there again. That fucking sound she makes and the way she shakes all over. I watch her face in the mirror as her head falls back on my shoulder and she screams out with her release, bringing on my own.

Heavy breaths and slapping skin fills the room as I thrust and thrust, and then I'm holding my breath and holding her tighter and it's never been so fucking good.

.

Neither of us speaks for several seconds but I can feel him. I can feel him inside me and on top of my back and his breath in my ear as he slowly lowers us both to the table. And where before his touch was rough, now it works to soothe as his fingers graze my sore muscles and overworked body.

His hands are at my shoulders, my hips, and then his lips are on my shoulder. I turn my head, and my eyes search for his. I need to know that he's okay.

What I see there is amazing. He's flushed, eyes happy and bright and breathing still labored. Exhilarated.

And it's there, at the end of it all, that he says the most important words of the entire night: "I love you."

.

.

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
